RUSH

Ch. 23: Poolside

-Bennett-

            I couldn't help but gawk at Eric's strapping frame as he dove under the surface, his defined back muscles shifting so beautifully as he started doing laps across the stretch of the furthermost lane. I hadn't been able to catch much more than a glimpse in the locker room, but now... I couldn't tear my eyes away.
             My jaw slacked a bit, a conflicting mixture of awe and envy coursing through me.

            "Hey there," Mason suddenly greeted whilst sitting down beside me on the bench, sparing me a small nod before focusing on Eric as well, his brows knitted in concentration. "How does he still have so much energy?" he grumbled to himself, sounding impressed despite the apprehensiveness in his voice.

            "I don't know," I offered in response, because it also made little sense to me, particularly considering how sweaty and worn out he'd appeared when I spotted him earlier. Hopefully, Eric wasn't expecting me to race him or anything of the sort; aside from my sprained ankle, there was just no way I was keeping up with him in general... even on a good day.

            "I feel like he's going to crash at some point," Mason continued, concernedly sighing under his breath while leaning forward on the bench, wearily leaning his arms on his knees. "I warned him to take it easy today."

            I frowned at that. "Is he alright?"

            "Yeah, it's just... Eric's still somewhat new to all this," Mason explained, his eyebrows furrowing further as he surveyed his friend's progress. "Believe it or not, he doesn't go to the gym very often."

            My frown deepened. "H-he doesn't?"

            Mason caught on to my skepticism rather quickly, snickering to himself whilst nodding his head in agreement. "I'm serious! He frequents the campus' gym every so often, but not nearly enough to consider it a habit."

            "Then... how?"

            Mason scoffed in feigned indignation. "The jerk has a very high metabolism. There isn't a day I don't feel jealous about it."

            I snorted, unfortunately able to relate.

            "And you... he didn't force you to join us, right?" Mason questioned rather abruptly, and I felt myself tense up immediately at his words.

            I opened my mouth to reply, but I felt the words stuck in the back of my throat... burrowing their way further back the more I tried to explain myself. I breathed out a weak sigh, but there was nothing else I could muster. So, I just timidly stared back with wide, bewildered eyes, stunned that he would question my presence quite so bluntly.

            "Hmm?" Mason pressed, quirking an eyebrow. "Be honest."

            "Oh, I-I can go... if I'm interrupting," I managed to force out, decidedly evading his gaze as I glared at the ground.

            Mason snorted in amusement, tsking under his breath before reaching out to flick my forehead. I closed my eyes in preparation, but all I felt was the gentle press of his index against my forehead as he nudged me back. "It's not like that, alright? I'm not saying I don't want you here. I just—I know how stubborn Eric can be; I wanted to make sure he didn't pressure you into tagging along against your will."

            And that... that made a lot more sense than the anthology of pessimistic assumptions I'd conjured up within the last minute. Even then, my heart had already sunk with an unexpected heaviness, bringing my body down with it. I was still physically sitting on the bench, trying to compose myself, but my essence had long ago collapsed onto the floor and curled up in blatant mortification.